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The Woman Who Burned Him

Penulis: Elizabeth_reads
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-05-21 20:06:02

Elena POV

I didn’t leave.

Even after his final words — no exceptions — my feet stayed planted on the floor of his office like they had grown roots. The command still pressed down on my chest, thick and suffocating, sealing something between us I wasn’t sure I could ever undo. But another sentence drowned it out.

She’s coming.

It pulsed louder than his rules. Sharper. More dangerous. And with it came a cold, creeping recognition that settled deep in my bones. This wasn’t random violence or a
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  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    Almost Us

    Elena POV I shouldn’t have gone back. I knew that before I even stepped out of my room. I stood there for a long minute with my hand on the door, telling myself to turn around and crawl back into bed. It would’ve been smarter. Safer. Easier. But I left anyway, pulling the door shut quietly behind me like I was doing something wrong. The hallway was quiet at this hour. Not completely silent, just… still. The kind of quiet where your own footsteps sound too loud, no matter how lightly you walk. I kept mine soft anyway, like that would somehow protect me. I didn’t have a real destination in mind. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. I passed the turn that led downstairs. Slowed for a second, then kept going. That was the first mistake. The second was not stopping when I reached his side of the mansion. By the time I realized where my feet were taking me, I was already there, standing in front of his office like an idiot who never learns. The door was slightly open. Not w

  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    Almost Truth

    Elena POV I didn’t plan to see him. I’d been avoiding him without even thinking about it most days. Taking longer routes through the house, staying in the parts of the mansion I knew he rarely went to. Little things. Stupid things. But they helped. And the worst part? He was doing the same thing. That made it easier… and somehow so much worse. Because it wasn’t just me being stubborn or dramatic or whatever excuse I kept telling myself. It was both of us choosing this distance. Both of us walking around like the other person was a landmine we didn’t want to step on. So when I turned the corner into the long hallway and saw him standing there, I stopped dead. Not because I wanted to. My body just… did it. Like it still recognized him before my brain could catch up and tell it to keep moving. He was already looking at me. That was the second thing I noticed. He hadn’t turned at the sound of my footsteps. He was just there, eyes already on me like he’d been waiting. Or maybe that wa

  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    Before You

    Dante’s POV It didn’t make sense. That was the problem. Nothing about this entire situation was supposed to feel this clean. Like someone was moving pieces on a board they had memorized years ago. The last shipment had passed through without a single interruption. No ambushes at the usual choke points. No warning shots fired into the night. No blood left on the pavement as a signature. That level of smoothness should have been a glaring red flag, but it was only one piece in a much larger, more disturbing pattern. Information kept leaking through in precise, measured amounts — just enough to keep us reacting, just enough to make us bleed resources and attention, but never enough to give us a clear target. The timing of every attack felt personal. The precision was surgical. Too perfect. Too familiar. I had seen this exact style of warfare before, and that realization sat like slow poison spreading through my veins. I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking under my weight,

  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    Silence Between Us

    Elena POV The shift happened instantly. I didn’t go near his office again. I didn’t try to talk to him, and I certainly didn’t ask Luca or anyone else where he was. I told myself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter, repeating the lie like a desperate prayer until it almost sounded convincing in my own head. Almost. The first day was the easiest. It was easy to stay locked inside my room, easy to avoid the main halls, and easy to pretend my world hadn’t just been dismantled piece by piece. I kept myself busy with hollow, mindless tasks that didn’t require a soul — walking from the bed to the window, sitting motionless, tracing the grain of the wooden nightstand until my vision blurred. Anything to stop my mind from drifting. Because the moment I stopped, his voice echoed in the silence like a blade pressed against my ribs. You were never meant to matter. It didn’t even sound like cruelty in my memory anymore. It just sounded like a simple fact. Every time it replayed, it carve

  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    Never Meant to Matter

    Elena POV I shouldn’t have gone to him. I knew it the second I stepped into his office and saw the way he stood — back turned to the door, shoulders rigid, one hand braced against the desk like it was the only thing keeping him upright. The room felt colder than usual, the lights dimmer, the silence heavier. Still, I stayed. I was exhausted from carrying the weight of unanswered questions, tired of pretending his distance wasn’t carving pieces out of me. “Are you just going to keep ignoring me?” My voice came out steadier than I felt, but barely. Dante didn’t turn right away. For a painful second, I thought he might not answer at all. Then he exhaled slowly and faced me. His expression was terrifyingly blank. Not angry. Not even cold. Just… empty. Like I had become background noise in his world. “I’m busy, Elena.” That was it. Four words. Delivered like I was an inconvenience. Like I was something he could schedule for later — if he felt like it. A quiet, humorless laugh

  • The Mafia Who Bought Me    The Name That Still Has Power

    The words didn’t leave the room. They hung there, thick and heavy, refusing to dissolve. This isn’t just a debt anymore. For a second, I desperately wanted to believe I had misheard him. That my mind was twisting his words into something darker than they were. Something I could still manage. Something that hadn’t already spiraled far beyond my control. But the look on my father’s face — pale, exhausted, eyes haunted, told me I hadn’t misheard anything. My chest felt tight. Not the sharp panic I expected, but a deep, heavy pressure. Like my body already understood the danger before my mind could fully accept it. “What does that mean?” I asked. My voice came out quieter than I intended, almost fragile in the heavy silence. He didn’t answer immediately. Of course he didn’t. That had become his default — silence as both shield and weapon. I stared at his shaking hands for another moment before forcing my gaze back to his face. “You keep doing this. Dropping half-truths and

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